


Some Things You Give Away

by Tozette



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blindfolds, F/F, Femslash, Light Bondage, The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura Universe, Tumblr Prompt, Vile Smut, because it's just porn, but you don't have to have read it to understand this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2258334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tozette/pseuds/Tozette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura is not as straight as she thought, and Konan is complicated. </p><p>This is 100% smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things You Give Away

**Author's Note:**

> **Edit:** It's come to my attention that some people on tumblr have possibly thought that this is an update to _The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura_. **This is not a chapter of TNH,** and it’s more or less entirely unrelated to the main story of TNH. Please do not become confuse, reader-babes. You do not need to read this vile smut to progress on your journey through TNH. - this has been a psa.

“Are you sure?” Sakura says, and it comes out not feeling at all like a question.

She’s blindfolded, but she knows the room is brightly - even unpleasantly - lit. It’s one of the store rooms in TRIVIA, and Sakura doubts this is its intended use.

But here she is. Sakura can’t see anything, but she thinks she can feel the lights on her skin.

Because she’s naked.

She can’t even contemplate how Konan talked her into this.

(It’s too humiliating to admit, even to herself, that it wasn’t that hard.)

“Of course,” says Konan. Her voice is absolutely serene, just as though she isn’t pulling Sakura’s hands behind her back, tying them off with rope. Konan does it with such easy skill that Sakura thinks she must have done it before, must have practised getting it tight enough to bind but not too tight for blood flow. The thought, and the lingering feeling of Konan’s fingers whispering over her skin, makes her mouth a little dry.

“You’ll need to spread your legs,” she informs Sakura in that same calm voice.

Sakura swallows. She inches her thighs apart, feeling - weird, embarrassed, _flushed_.

Konan clicks her tongue. “Further,” she orders.

Sakura spreads her knees a little more, a few inches. She’s not very well balanced with her hands behind her back, and she knows if she lets herself tip forward she’s going to land on her face, not her hands.

Konan’s patience wanes, and she slides one polished shoe between Sakura’s calves and shoves her legs apart, scraping her knee on the hard floor. Sakura very nearly loses her balance, but a sudden tug on the rope stops her.

“Better,” says Konan.

Sakura feels a rush of warm breath on her back and breaks out in shivers. She opens her mouth, but then closes it. She’s not sure what she might be about to say anyway. She’s honestly not sure she likes this - she feels strange, off-balance, vulnerable.

Konan’s hands slide soothingly through her hair for a moment. Then they trail down her neck, over the sensitive bits behind her ears. Nails scrape over her collarbones.

Blindfolded, Sakura is very aware of her own skin. Konan’s touches aren’t hard, aren’t heavy; they’re deft and careful and they make her pulse leap under her skin. There are dry spots on her fingers, places where Konan has spent too long washing dishes, and they catch on the soft skin of Sakura’s breasts.

She can feel the uneasy shiver of her skin when her nipples tighten, and she feels Konan’s breath when she notices. Her nails edge, scraping but gentle, over her nipples and Sakura swallows at the sudden jolt of sensation. She’s not sure if she likes it, but she can feel heat and anxiety pooling restlessly in her gut.

She feels very naked.

Probably because she is naked.

Konan’s hands linger on the fleshy parts of her breasts for a second - less teasing, Sakura thinks, and more because she just likes it. She thinks Konan likes the soft, heavy weight of her breasts in her hands.

She almost flinches when Konan bites her ear. Her mouth is _warm_ , it’s wet, she -

She swallows.

Her skin shivers all on its own.

One of those meandering hands slides down her hip, over the soft skin there. Konan’s fingers rub down her belly and drag lazily through the thatch of curls below. There’s a silent, intensely hormonal second in which her fingers slip lower, slide over her vulva. Sakura tenses, nervous and anticipatory, but Konan deftly avoids contact with her clitoris, instead dipping her fingers gently inside and -

Ah.

Sakura’s breath comes out sharply.

Konan pulls away, but she doesn’t laugh.

“Good,” she says, rubbing what might have been a soothing circle if the centre of it wasn’t one of Sakura’s tight nipples. Her other hand trails back up Sakura’s belly, between her breasts, over her throat.

Sakura can’t see, but she can smell her own fluids on Konan’s fingertips.

It doesn’t take much encouragement to make her lick them.

Konan’s calm, even breathing shifts a little. It’s a dull thrill beneath the clamour of Sakura’s nerves, but it still pleases her to know that Konan’s not as indifferent and calm as she makes it seem. Sakura sucks, rubbing her tongue over the skin, scraping with her teeth. She can’t use her hands, but she can do this.

Konan runs the fingers of her other hand down Sakura’s spine, slide them between the cleft of her buttocks, rub them over her hole, her perineum, edging toward the slickness between her thighs.

Sakura’s breath comes a little too hard to breath entirely through her nose. She lets Konan’s fingers slip away and clenches her thighs around those teasing fingers. “Konan-san,” she says.

Her voice surprises even her, loud in the steady silence, strained and out of breath.

She’s not quite sure what she’d been going to say.

Konan rises smoothly to her feet, steps away from Sakura with the authoritative _click, click_ of heeled shoes on the hard floor. The sweep of fabric and the sound of steps remind Sakura that Konan is fully dressed.

Sakura is... surprised, a little. She’s horny - she was horny before they even started, but now she feels like she could get herself off just by squeezing her thighs and rocking herself against the floor. It wouldn’t take much. She still wants something _in_ her, though, something hard. It feels strange to her, because that is a want she associates with men, with rough hands and heavy muscle.

It surprises her how good it would be if it was Konan’s warmth instead. If it was Konan’s lingering smells of wheat and spices, Konan’s deft, delicate touch - Konan’s softer skin, her flared hips, the tantalising curve of her thighs, the sweat-sweet smell of her hair after a day’s work. Sakura wishes for a second that she was free so she could find all of these things out for herself. So she could explore Konan somewhere other than in her mind’s eye.

But she can’t. She’s stuck.

She can’t even see.

Her ears strain.

Sakura feels very exposed, but now she’s less worried about how much she likes it. She doesn’t know what’s coming next, but - well, she feels restless and hungry for something more substantial than teasing fingertips trailing her skin. She’s tied up, and Konan’s been gentle so far, but she thinks maybe she would mind being pushed.

Just a little.

Maybe shoved over, her chest and face pressed to the floor. She wonders what it would be like to feel Konan behind her like that, with the softness of her bare breasts pressed into Sakura’s back.

She doubts Konan would have a problem being a little rough.

Her mouth is really dry.

She can still feel the lingering sensation on her calf and her knee where Konan forced her knees apart earlier, the smooth polished leather of her shoe.

Sakura’s breathing is rough, and the top of her thighs is slick.

Konan resettles behind her, gracefully dropping to her knees in a rustle of fabric. Right. Because Konan is dressed and Sakura is naked; Konan can see and Sakura is blindfolded; Konan can move and Sakura is bound.

“Breathe,” Konan warns her. She gives her barely a second for alarm and then she feels the cool, slickened pressure of something between her thighs. She breathes out sharply when it makes contact with her labia.

“What --?”

“It’s a toy,” Konan murmurs, like Sakura wouldn’t have guessed that, and she scrapes her fingers down Sakura’s belly. Sakura shiver, and the motion rubs the toy against her more firmly.

“Uh,” says Sakura, uncertain, and then Konan trips a switch in the bottom of the thing and her entire nervous system lights up for a few stupid, buzzing moments. “Mmm,” she adds blankly.

She can feel Konan smile against her shoulder. “Breathe,” she recommends again, serene and steady.

There’s a single awkward moment as Konan rubs her fingers around the edge of the toy, feeling vibrations and the soft, melting heat there. But then she seems to have decided, and she presses forward, applying slow but hard pressure.

That toy - it’s... it’s big, not long, but thick - big in a way that’s almost a little too big, pushing and stretching her insides, but it’s also _really good_ , and a feeling runs through her, not pleasure so much as satisfaction - _yes, this,_ her body cries - and it’s Konan’s long nails on her skin and Konan’s soft hair on her back and Konan’s plush lips trailing slick-wet kisses down her spine that make her arch. Her knees spread all on their own, and Konan pushes the toy inside her, quick and not particularly gentle.

Sakura makes a noise, a rough panting sound. She feels full. Full of a strange buzzing vibration that sings along her nerves in a way that’s almost a little overwhelming. Konan scrapes her teeth over Sakura’s shoulder blade.

Sakura grunts, soft and low, feeling like the noise is forced from her. Konan pulls her back, until the base of the toy rests against one of Konan’s thighs, and it’s being driven further in. The slow slick slide of the thing makes her insides coil up, hot and trembling and ready to spring in some indefinable way.

Sakura can feel the rough fabric of her pants against her bare skin and her bound hands are crushed against Konan’s belly, there’s --

“Take your shirt off,” Sakura says. It’s meant to sound demanding but it comes out on the hard edge of a panting breath.

Konan complies in silence. The fabric falls with a whisper, hits the hard floor.

Sakura’s thighs are spread around one of Konan’s. The pressure of their bodies pressing together forces the toy in deep and holds it there. One of Konan’s hands pushes against her belly like she might be able to feel it out the other side - she can’t, of course, but the press of her fingers is strangely intimate anyway. The other hand is tangled between Sakura’s blindfold and her hair, keeping her in her place.

She pulls gently on her hair, forcing Sakura’s head back, breathing in the scent of her skin at the bend of her neck.

“Konan-san,” Sakura says, shifting restlessly. She rocks her hips, feeling the dull shift of the toy inside her and the smooth slide of Konan’s breasts against her back. They’re bare, heavy and warm and for a blind moment Sakura wants to turn and bury her face in them, bite at that _so soft, so tempting_ flesh and feel it between her teeth, against her face. She wants to roll herself in Konan but she wants to keep rocking her hips, keep feeling these little restless jolts of pleasure and thrumming vibrations.

“It’s okay,” Konan says, pulling her closer. Her mouth is on Sakura’s neck. It’s good.

Her fingers stop rubbing their teasing circles on her stomach and trail down. Konan tugs gently at her pubic hair, making Sakura twitch, and pulls her in close, pressing them together, breasts and spine and Sakura’s hips against her thigh.

Her fingers rub lower, over the soft, sensitive hood of her clitoris, and Sakura makes a sighing noise, tensing, rolling her hips. Konan’s fingers are light as they rub. They don’t need to be heavy or rough now, not really, because Sakura’s all throbbing and aching, melting heat, wet noises and soft sighs.

Konan murmurs to her, talking softly and steadily, but the things she _says_ -

She tells her how her lips are wet, how her breasts flush, how Konan can see the curling hair between her legs, how Sakura’s thighs feel tense like steel and how she looks with her hips rocking involuntarily, the toy making slick, wet noises as their rocking shoves it in and out of her.

Konan’s fingers rub, slick with Sakura’s own fluids, all sloppy friction, and Sakura feels like her body is full and swollen and out of control, like her spine is melting, and all the while Konan tells her how she’s leaving marks on Sakura’s throat. She tells her how she wants to press her face between Sakura’s thighs and inhale the scents and rub her face against the wet lips of her pussy.

Sakura comes in a rush, a warm shuddery relief that makes her groan aloud. It’s a ragged noise wrenched from her throat and all her muscles go tight for a second.

She can feel her insides contracting, sharp and hard, several times before they begin to slow and space themselves out, until it’s a twitch rather than a strange jerk. It’s ...good. She feels good.

It’s really good. She feels wet and sloppy and oversensitive. Her breath comes out hard.

Sakura is suddenly aware of how much sweat is on her skin, of how hard she’s breathing. Everything feels cold and surreal and strange, but then Konan’s tugging her blindfold free and gently pulling the toy free from her - oh, okay, that feels -- she’s not sure _what_ that feels, if it’s good, if it hurts, but she can feel how wet everything is between her thighs, and it makes this _noise_ coming free, which is absolutely mortifying.

Konan sets the thing aside somewhere, somewhere Sakura’s not looking, and pulls her close. Sakura sinks her face onto Konan’s shoulder. It’s a strange feeling: the jut of a collarbone, the rise of soft breasts instead of flat planes, but...

She likes it. It’s good.

It doesn’t feel weird or wrong, and when her eyes adjust Konan’s mouth is wet and reddened and there’s a flush high across her cheekbones, and Sakura thinks she may just be the loveliest thing she’s ever laid eyes upon.

“Oh,” she says, in the tone of somebody experiencing an epiphany.

“Are you all right?” Konan asks. Her voice is still smooth and steady, despite her flushed cheeks and swollen lips and the hard nipples rubbing against Sakura’s chest.

“Yeah,” says Sakura, surprised on several levels. “Yeah, I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very welcome. :)


End file.
